More Than Human
by Mocha2
Summary: Previously 'Confusion'. Max's virus cures itself, but she avoids the truth; Logan's past confronts in the form of a sixteen-year-old girl. COMPLETE (Chapters 7 + 8 added)
1. Baked Goods

**"Confusion"**  
Chapter 1: Baked Goods  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.   
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** My third story! I decided to poke a new option in the whole Max/Logan virus crap... I don't think anyone's explored this one yet. 

Max snuggled up to the couch under the gigantic duvet. It had been so nice of Logan to let her stay, even though her touch was poison, even though they loved each other and could do nothing about it. They didn't even talk about where their relationship was; just long, uncomfortable silences and the occaisonal Eyes Only mission. Any hope of figuring out their relationship was lost in babble about White and his goons. 

She fingered the edge of the duvet, unable to sleep. She'd stayed at Joshua's for a night about two weeks ago, and had woken up next to a beautiful painting, made with Max's person in mind. Not her body, but what made her Max. It struck her that it's the insides that make you love someone--looks help, but not much. Joshua could see inside her and what surrounded her, but Logan seemed to think "all or nothing"--he wanted the inbetween, as well. She just wished she didn't end up killing everyone she got close to, that everything would get back to normal around there. 

The sun began coming up and she threw the duvet off, standing up and folding it, watching the sun rise into a strangely clear sky. It reflected off of Sector Five's skyscrapers; this sector was the high-rise capitol of Seattle, after all. Max smoothed the folds in the blanket and tucked it back behind the small couch, where she'd found it. The sunrise warmed her skin and she smiled wistfully, remembering her first night out of Manticore, watching the sun rise and feeling free. Max folded her arms across her red t-shirt-covered chest, whirling when she heard the definitive whirring of Logan's exoskeleton. 

"Sleep well?" She asked, noticing contently that he was shirtless when he nodded at her. _Someone's been workin' out since my hair went straight..._

"Uh, yeah... Seen my blue shirt?" It took Max a second to realize which one he was talking about. 

"The light blue one? Nope," she mumbled, checking out his now nicely-toned upper body. 

"Meh... I'll grab a different one then. Got those disks from last night?" 

"Yeah," Max pulled them from her jacket that was sitting on the arm of the couch. "Want me to load them up?" 

"If you want to." Logan dissappeared into his room and Max's eyes followed him, wondering what his problem was this morning. She sat down at the computer and popped the disks into the A:\ drive with a sigh, logging into Logan's network identity. The phone rang, and she checked the caller ID before picking it up. 

"Hello," she said blandly, looking at her nails and picking a bit of lint out of one while the disks booted. It sounded like a loud diner on the other end of the conversation. 

"Logan Cale or Max Guevara?" It was the stuttering doctor who she'd paid five large a few weeks ago. 

"That depends. I'm guessing this is the screwball that I gave a few handfuls of money to, right?" 

"Y-yeah... I've got some good news for you on that virus thing." Max straightened up, glow back in her face. "It's got an expiry date. Don't know when it is. I'm helping out at a blood donor clinic tomorrow, how 'bout I give the address and I get another virus sample and get that expiry date.. Or... Or you could give me the rest of the papers and I could find it in there." Max's heart sank when she remembered Alec handing her the paint-covered papers. 

"I'd better just go to the blood clinic. Do you have the address?" 

----- 

Max laid down pensively as a friendly-looking nurse rubbed her inner elbow with some alchohol, reassuring her that it wouldn't hurt. She barely noticed the needle going in, not feeling pain from it, just knowing it was in there. The awkward-looking, balding, stuttering lab tech stared down at her and patted the nurse on the shoulder. 

"I'll take over here. She's an HIV patient of mine, don't know why she had the nerve to come here and donate blood." The nurse said something like "yes, doctor" and left, Max giving the tech a dirty look. 

"Doctor? Bullshit. I'm not gonna owe you money for this, am I?" She kept her voice down, almost inaudible against the loud hum of the school gymnasium the Red Cross was using that day. 

"Hey, all I did last time was get you some paper. Like that got you anywhere." He replaced the vial with an empty one, filling it as well. 

"Got an estimate on the expiry date of this virus bitch? And any idea on why it even has one?" 

"The whole idea isn't new," he told her, picking up a full vial and holding it up the small desk lamp. "If the virus doesn't have anything to do, it starts attacking whoever it's living in, as long as it's been activated before. So they gave it an expiry date... Six months or so. But it ain't a good idea to play guessing games with shit like that." 

"So that's why you called me," Max spoke in a softer tone. "I'm either a ticking time bomb or overdue baked goods." 

"Funny you should say baked goods," he muttered. "It's lingo for female fugitive." 

"I lived in Manticore for ten years. I know what baked goods are." 

"Keep your voice down," he warned. "I'm not the only tech in this joint right now." He pulled the entire needle out of her then and she gasped slightly. 

"Wanna be a bit more gentle there, _doc_?" Max asked, hopeful. She got up and pulled her leather jacket back on. "Now where's my muffin and juice?" 


	2. Expiry Date

**"Confusion"**  
Chapter 2: Expiry Date  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.   
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A:/N:** Wow! 8 reviews! By popular demand.. (Sorry for saying that chap 2 was up when it wasn't, Hailey originally had a brother and then I realized there wasn't enough room in Logan's penthouse for that...) 

Logan went through the disks again. Nothing there. Nothing to explain what or who exactly Alpha was. All he knew is that it had been around since 10,000 B.C., choosing a mother and killing the first two children. And after the third was born, mommy died. One bitch of a system. Exasperated, he yanked the disk back out of the computer and chucked it against the glass pane behind his computer. The phone broke through his developing funk. 

"Who's this?" He demanded. 

"The... Uh, the lab creep. Max around?" As if on cue, Max entered Logan's penthouse and went to his computer room. 

"Hey. Who ya talkin' to?" 

"Hey, yourself... The lab creep's on the phone." Max's eyes lit up but she bit back her happiness. 

"He didn't talk to you, did he?" She asked quickly. He shook his head and handed her the phone, careful not to brush her fingers. "Hello?" 

"Hey. The virus' expiry date was October 27th, about two weeks ago..." A smile erupted on Max's face as she thanked him and hung up. 

"What was that about?" Logan asked. Covering quickly, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. 

"You'll see," she told him excitedly. "It's good though, very good." 

"So we can touch?" He asked, careful not to get his hopes up too high. 

"Not quite..." 

"So? What's going on?" 

"Nothing." 

"You sure?" 

"Positive." 

"Just tell me." 

"Baskin Robbins got a new flavour. It's called 'colour me nosy'." Logan got the point and turned around, going back to looking through the disks. "Anything on there?" 

"Nope. Looks like dummy disks." 

Max groaned, leaning on the desk with one hand. "Does this mean I gotta get my ass kicked again?" 

"This is the only way we'll figure out how to kill them." 

----- 

"Who says this guy is my biological dad anyway?" Hailey grunted to the social worker. The events of the last week roared through her mind. 

"We'll only be gone an hour, dear," her mother had reassured her. Diane Morris was an honest woman, and that's what everyone had known her for. Except Hailey, though; it was if her mother knew something about her that Hailey didn't. It irked her til her mother's dying day, and for a few after. She remembered getting the phone call: a suprise snowstorm shocked Floridians, somehow taking away their driving skills as the freezing rain started. Another driver broadsided their parents, and another, and another... A ten-car pileup. She's been the one to pick up the phone. 

Hailey studied her watch momentarily. It was early and the knowledge evoked a yawn, almost startling the kid's aid guy. She didn't know what else to call him except a bumbling idiot. He stuttered and wrung his hands often, an undefiant show of how unconfident he was. So much for social workers having balls. 

"Is this Logan Cale guy old?" Grunted the sixteen-year-old. The social worker shook his head nervously, assuring her that he was no more than thirty-five. "Christ, he's young. Him and mom must've hooked up early eh?" He didn't give her a response, so she leaned on the wall of the elevator, sighing. "Where does this guy live, on a cloud?" 

_Fuck this. I try to lighten the mood and what do I get? Squat. Yeah, my parents are dead.. Like I've talked to them in the last five years? Whatever. Maybe 'dad' has other kids. My age. I'm so fucking bored._

The elevator jarred to a stop, shaking Hailey from her daze. The mahogany door across from her looked inviting enough, so she knocked. A female voice wafted over. "Who's there?" 

"Children's Aid Services, ma'am," the man cleared his throat. Hailey groaned again. The door opened then, revealing a pretty young woman, wearing slightly grungy clothing and fingerless motorcycle gloves. Her hair was past her shoulders and dark, straight, framing her hispanic-looking face--darker skin, big lips and eyes, but still very american or european looking. Max threw a glance at Hailey and then looked at the worker. 

"Yes?" 

----- 

"My mom's Diane. I'm guessing you got laid at prom or something." Hailey and Logan sat across from each other in Logan's pseudo-living room. Max had let them have some privacy, excusing herself to go to the conveinence store to get some food a teenager might actually eat. 

"Excuse me?" He choked. This girl reminded him of Max; up-front and out there, speaking whatever came to her mind. _Oh well, it's better than sitting here and not saying anything._

She rolled her eyes. "Diane Morris. A bit taller than your girlfriend or maid or hooker or whoever 'Max' is. A bit more caucasian too." 

"'Max' is a friend of mine," Logan said, tired of this girl's cheek. "And I _think_ I went to grad with a Diane... Never saw her agan though, we went to different colleges." _Wow, I have a daughter... A sixteen-year-old daughter. Oh my God._

"Anyway, it explains a lot. My mom and the guy I called dad were both brunette with hazel eyes. I had some questions about where my blonde hair and blue eyes came from. Not that anyone answered them." Hailey spoke in a softer tone, suddenly overwhelmed by the size of Logan's apartment. Her family had lived in a tiny, wallpapered farmhouse in Florida, their farmland being used by the nieghbours for a massive orange orchard. Now she was living in a designer pad. "So, where's my room?" 

"Uh... Just down the hall. Past the bathroom." 

"Cool." She got up, grabbing her bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. "When in Rome, make yourself comfortable." 

"I totally agree," came Max's voice from the foyer. She walked in carrying a box of Corn Pops, microwavable popcorn, a two-litre bottle of Coke. The girl caught her when she entered and focused her attentions on Max instead of her room. 

"So, what's up with you and Logan?" If they kept their voices down, they were out of earshot from the man they were talking about. A smile formed on Max's face to cover for the fact that she was about to make something up. 

"It's really complicated. You like Corn Pops?" Her attempt at changing the subject failed; Hailey was too stubborn. 

"If I'm going to be living here, I need to know what's going on." 

"No, you don't." Max turned away from her, tearing open the box of popcorn and getting herself a bag. 

The younger girl got in her face. "_Tell_ me. Please?" Max gave up, unfolded the popcorn baggie, and stalked off to the microwave. 

"I'm a genetically engineered superhuman who is about five times faster than you and the big bads who made me set me up with a retrovirus after my clone shot me that was meant to kill Logan because he is Eyes Only and has screwed the big bads over many times, so I can't touch him or he'll break out in hives and die a slow and painful death within twenty-four hours, and I don't know if we're still 'going out' or not," she said easily. Hailey rolled her eyes. 

"How'd you meet?" She asked, testing Max's story-making abilities. 

"I saw his Goddess Bast statue and busted into his apartment, took out his security guard with my thumb and forefinger and rudely interrupted his Eyes Only broadcast. A while later he was shot," Max took a dreep breath and jammed her fingers at the microwave buttons, "in the back and permanently paralyzed from the waist down for the most part, until our crazy friend Phil-who could jump really high because of this exoskeleton thing-got shot or something and gave Logan his exoskeleton--which would make him be able to walk... Then I got him a chip for it without knowing what the chip was for in the first place and he thought his paralysis mattered to me... The anniversary of my break-in came around and he showed off his exoskeleton and kissed me and my _stupid_--" she slammed the popcorn bag into the microwave on that word-- "brother Zack interrupted. We tried to blow up Manticore--the big bad--and me and him both got shot." 

Hailey was eager to hear the rest of this probably-fake story and encouraged Max to go on. "But I got shot in the chest and needed a new heart... And we X5s can only have X5 hearts... So he shot himself in the head to save me. Apparently Logan and Deck--one of the big bad's minions--had a meeting and Logan was shot in the arm and there was some blood.. They used that to give me a virus that activates when I touch him and kills him... It almost did, once," her voice faltered. 

"And the award for the biggest line of bullshit I've ever heard goes to..." Hailey mocked. "C'mon. For real. Logan's not Eyes Only, you're full of it." The microwave beeped and Max popped it open, removed the popcorn bag, and tore it open. 

"Maybe so," she said, stuffing her face with the popped corn, "but that information goes with you to your grave. It's bad enough Lydecker knows about Logan." 

"What a bunch of crap," Hailey muttered, snatching the bag from Max. "I'm going to my room." 


	3. I Wish

**"Confusion"**  
Chapter 3: I Wish  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.   
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** This is mostly drabble, stuff I left out in the first two chapters. Tidbit: The Max vs. Hailey part was rewritten three times because Hailey's got a big ol' plot twist coming after her in the next chapter. 

"Find anything yet?" Logan asked, looming over me. I shift in my seat, shoulder accidently bumping stomach. Springing from my chair, I apologized melodramatically as he looked at his hands and smiled. 

"Lab creep called yesterday when you and Hailey went to the video store... Why didn't you tell me before?" Oh _shit_. I really didn't mean for him to find out like that.. .I was going to go to a trust-worthy lab and get the virus analyzed, but no, that damned tech called here and actually _told him_. The tech could've just been spewing a bunch of BS about my virus having an expiry date; I didn't want to find out if he was wrong. 

"I don't trust anyone who willingly worked for Manticore," I shot back. "Sorry, but I didn't want to kill you or anything." Shaking his head, he kept smiling like an idiot. 

"I'm not dead!" He chuckled. I rolled my eyes dramatically as he fell to the ground, convulsing. 

I snapped awake and ran a nervous hand through my hair, throwing off the covers and running into the bathroom to splash water onto my face. He couldn't find out, he just _couldn't_. I wanted, needed so bad to touch him, run my fingers through his hair, kiss his lips, even just hold his hand or taste-test his culinary wonders again... To not worry when I'd been using the computer at his place and he sat down to start typing away. It was bad enough that I had to look over my back for Manticore, now I had to keep an eye out for Logan; a quick run-in and he could be dead. 

I wished I knew. 

I wished I knew if my touch was still poison to the man I loved. 

I wished I knew if Hailey was going to be okay after the shock of the last two weeks. 

I wished I knew that Zack was okay. 

I wished I knew how to stop time, give myself ten seconds to catch a breath. It was like that spinning thing at the playground, with the six or so handles and the circular floor... The big kids would grab a handle and spin as the other children squealed in terror, wind catching their hair, hanging on for dear life so as not to fly off the equipment. And some would just jump on and off, regardless of whether or not the wheel was going at top speed. And still others would cling to the center or sit on it's floor, safe for a few minutes until the motion caught up with them and they became ill. 

I just wanted it stop, for everyone to let me off for a minute while I get a few breaths. Or I could spill the beans to Logan about all of this virus crap and submit myself to White, let him kill me. But I was stuck clingling to the end of those handlebars, shrieking as life tore past. I need to jump off and take a breather. It's too much. 

I peeked out the window at the streets of Seattle... Well, actually, it was an alley. An alley with a young girl, maybe seventeen, looking around, medium-length blonde hair getting in her way. She looked up and didn't see me. What in the hell was Hailey doing in an alleyway at four in the morning? Yawning, I pulled on a sweater and quietly snuck out of the apartment and onto the street, down the alley. I grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked. 

The reunion--if you could call it that--with Hailey and Logan was awkward. I didn't know what to say so I just bailed. She's not my daughter, and knowing Logan has a kid just made things... Wierd. Yeah, she's fun and spunky--you figure that out after a week--but she's Logan's kid. But I sat with them while the social worker spewed--ahem, stuttered--about rules, how she could be left alone alone for moderate periods of time because she was of legal age, blah blah, gets her own room if possible, blah blah blah. They'll be back to check up on everyone in two weeks, la dee da dee da. I don't know what drove me out of there: the awkwardness when the social worker left, my rumbling stomach, or plain boredom. Hailey and Logan's personalities clash even worse than his and mine... Mine was like grey on black with him, hers is more hexadecimal 000000 on black. 

Which made for a lot of long, eerie silences because anything one side said would probably offend another. At least they were getting along when I got back with food. Hah, I hope they didn't talk about me. I just hope Hailey knows the only reason I'm a little bit... Uhhh... Around her is because she's Logan's kid. And I'll get over that. 

"Hey!" She went right for my crotch with her foot, donkey-kick style, throwing me out of my second daydream of the day. My attempt at grabbing her leg and tossing her failed, because the strength of her blow threw me into a nearby dumpster. 

"What the hell are _you_ doing?" I spit, watching as she grabs my arm and pins me to the metal monster. Giving up, I settled for squirming, but that was pointless too. 

"Trying to run away is what I'm doing," she muttered, easily keeping up with my resistance effort. "Fuck, you're strong." 

"That's pretty much mutual." My arms are effortlessly pinned down by her hands. She finally let me go, brushing the dirt off her jeans, cussing under her breath. "How?" 

I study her for a moment. Her hair is a mess; so are her clothes. The backpack she's sporting is a smaller, less-heavier one than the bag she'd brought to Logan's. It's my Jansport bag... I accidently left it at Logan's a few days ago. Oh, that's my jacket, too. Note to self: Raid the guest closet. 

She ignored my question. "I don't know _anyone_ here and the people I do know are _lying_ to me," she choked after a moment, tears springing from her eyes. "I mean, back in Florida, the sun shines, you know? And the place... Florida isn't half as run down as this _fucking shit hole!_" The fury building inside her unleashed itself in a powerful kick directed at a neighbouring, metal trash bin. She hopped on one foot, crying, gingerly clenching her toes through her sho--those are my shoes! She put her foot down, crossing her arms on her chest, body wracking with sobs. 

"It's not our fault the Pulse was detonated here, you know." How else was I supposed to react? Everyone needs venting time, and I've found that most venters don't like to be hugged or anything. Like me. And her apparently... 

"It's bad enough I'm never going to see my parents again," she whispers. "Bad enough I never really got to know them, never spent time with them. But... But I had to pick up the phone." Hailey's lonely, desperate eyes searched my own and, finding no sympathy in them, she turned away. "I had to have that stupid officer tell me that my parents were.. Pancakes... Because it snowed!" She wiped her eyes, smearing a little bit of mascara on her hands. "I wanted it to snow, Max... We'd gone skiing in Vancouver a week earlier and I sat on the couch in Florida thinking, 'damn, I wish it would snow'. This is all my fault, I didn't say I wanted to stay in Florida after they died, I wanted it to snow before.. They're _ gone_ and it's all my fault... And I'm cold and I'm tired and I wish... I wish it hadn't snowed." Her face was beet red now, even though she had mostly calmed herself down. 

I wrestled with the idea of letting her stay over for a few seconds. "Tell you what. How 'bout you come inside, get some sleep, and wait a week before you try to go back to Florida. I don't sleep, you can use my bed." Hailey nodded as if her body wanted to and her mind didn't, and followed me inside. 

Naturally, Logan called when he found that his daughter was not around. I told him to come over, while mentally telling myself that today was the day to tell him everything, even though it wasn't. I couldn't tell him, wouldn't. Not that his offspring hated it here, or that we could possibly touch. If I told him about the virus, we'd go back to 'being together', even though we never were. Eventually we would either break up and ruin the friendship, or marry and I'd have a few kids to tie me down to Seattle... Which isn't a good idea, seeing as I've always got someone running three steps behind... Cough, White and Manticore. 

Or I could just keep it to myself. In a month or two, we'll both move on and still be friends. It would be different, because we'd be moving on for reasons we couldn't control. Sooner or later, me and Logan will meet other people,and it won't matter to the other person... And heck, where was the relationship even at with us? We seemed to be at Standby, waiting for a glimmering ray of hope to come through and break the chains of this goddamn virus. It felt awkward being the only one that knows that the chain might be broken. 

And if I do tell him, and the virus doesn't have an expiry date, we're both screwed. He'll be dead, and I'll have a huge weight of guilt on my chest that will never go away. Hold on a second; what the hell was Hailey doing, running away to a _dead-end alley_ and then handing my ass to me on a plate? 

A frantic Logan opened the door to my apartment and I barely managed to plaster on a smile in time. "Hey." 

"Hey, yourself... Hailey around?" 

"Uh, yeah. She's asleep. She's only been down for about four hours though," I walked over to the kitchen and he followed, obviously peeved. "I don't think she was running away." 


	4. Pain is a Phantom of the Mind

**"Confusion"**  
Chapter 4: Pain is a Phantom of the Mind  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.   
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** This chapter had a mind of it's own... But it definitely adds another side to Hailey. I'm glad you guys like the story so much, it puts a smile on my face when I log in and see someone rave about it. :) 

I peeked around the corner in the hall. I wasn't tired. Too anxious to be tired. Worried, frantic, excited, adrenaline-pumped from the chase earlier. I played it back in my mind with ease, eaves-dropping on Max and Logan's easy banter. I could tell she was avoiding something. 

I didn't run away. I'm not half that stupid... I just felt I could vent around Max and she wouldn't mind, but I needed an excuse to be out that late in the first place. I couldn't sleep and it was about midnight, and it turns out my sneaking-around skills are pretty good. In about twenty minutes, I was downstairs and across the street, running down Seattle's grid, rhythm helping my state of mind. Whap-whap-whap was the sound my running shoes made, but what I felt was a good solid pounding as they hit the pavement. It felt good; lost in the beat of my own sprinting, I could forget about anything. Until a heavily-armed man popped out of the corner and shot at me. 

Blam blam. I blurred away from him with a speed I didn't know I had. A sniper on the roof; I blindsided him too. Before I knew what I was doing, I was on the roof, fighting armed men and kicking ass. Then I jumped from the top of the small conveinence store--pretty run down for Logan's part of town--and kept running, adrenaline surging through my blood. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, or how I was doing it. It was great. 

An asian female came out of the shadows, long black hair flowing from a skin-tight ponytail on the back of her head, the streetlights highlighting her catsuit-covered body. She tried to engage in conversation with me, keeping a fighting stance and circling like I was prey. I didn't hear it, my heart was pounding too hard in my ears. Something about Manticore. Wham, a kick in the gut. The second shot she took at me--this time it was a punch--failed miserably; I grabbed her arm and chucked her at the ground like a little rag doll, snapping her neck when I jammed my foot down on her throat. She was dead when I put my fingers to her throat to check for a pulse. 

I came down a bit from my high and realized it was snowing heavily. I hated the snow, my parents died by its hand. My running took me to a closed-off alleyway, where Max found me. I could feel the skin peel off my back from a large scrape I'd gotten during the brawl with the goons, but it didn't hurt. Pain is a phantom of the mind, my mother had told me one day when I was young, as she sliced her finger open to show me that she was right. We'd watch the blood stop itself from racing out of the wound, which was slowly healing itself. 

"I don't think she was running away," Max said to Logan. I saw her glance at me from the corner of her eye, observing me and nothing more. "Kids don't run away to an alley that doesn't have an exit." 

"Still," he insisted. "Don't leave her alone." His voice faltered. "Wait, that must mean you _touched_ her, if she kicked your ass like that." I reeled. Max's retrovirus targeted Logan's DNA, and I'm his biological child... I could see the gears twirling in their heads as well. The expression on Max's face was pure shock. 

"I guess it only targets you then," she covered. "Because she's fine." Did she know something the rest of us didn't? "Hailey, come 'ere." My name snaps me out of my eaves-drop daze and I walk over. 

"What was that thing this morning about?" Max asks casually. I felt like I had two-hundred people eyeing me, waiting for an answer I didn't have. She and Logan wait, expectantly. 

"I don't know." My voice was barely above a whisper but it got the point across. 

"Don't know! You kicked my ass into the middle of next week. And I saw the scrape on your back... No tear stains on your face. Heck, even I'd be in tears from that." 

"'Pain is a phantom of the mind'," I quote. Max and Logan share a look, then go back to watching my every move. 

"What?" He asks. The idiot. I could more than tell he knew what I'm talking about. My eyes roll by their own accord. 

"I don't feel pain." Max's hand fires at my face to test my statement, but I grab it and throw her out of her chair and onto the floor. She twists herself up, into a fighting stance. 

"You're one of them," she told me, bitterly. I tiptoed away from her. 

"One of what?" Seriously, I didn't know. Logan's parental instinct took over and he told Max to knock it off. "What am I?" 

"One of White's ilk. Which doesn't make any sense because Logan isn't." 

"It makes sense. When the third child of one of them is female, they find a male for her to mate with... I'm guessing she didn't know." He told her. 

"But I'm her firstborn," I interrupt. "She was eighteen, after all. And who is White?" 

"Which makes me wonder if that accident your folks were in _was_ an accident," Max put in. "White tried to kill his wife when she wouldn't let his son go... Maybe they do the same thing when you don't kill your first two bambinos." 

"But it wasn't fair. She didn't even know what she was." 

"She told you that pain was a phantom of the mind, right? She knew." 

"Maybe she just didn't know the rules." 

"Stop being so damn naïve. She knew and didn't tell you." 

"Fine." She saw me as the bad guy. I was 'one of them', one of those people she hated with a passion. I didn't knew what's up with her past and all that jazz. All I knew is that she's enhanced, and that she only surpassed me when it comes to skill. Brute strength? Pain? I was all over her. 

And it scared the shit out of me. 


	5. Joshua and the Envelope

**"More Than Human"**  
Chapter 5: Joshua and the Envelope  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.   
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** What you've all been waiting for... Well, some of you. A very small group of you. Maybe one or two people. If that. Haha. (Sorry, it can't be M/L all the way through, that would be boring). New story title. 

"Well... I dunno. Are you sure she's even yours?" I asked. Wow--Logan has had a daughter for sixteen years and out the blue, he's her legal guardian. She looks like him, I'll give her that, but I was so not buying this. I guess Max was just trying to be polite, because I got the jist that she'd become suspicious as well over the past couple of days and not showing it. Someone belonging to this White guy's 'family' , plopped into Logan's lap, never mind the fact that his 'friend' Max is one of their most-wanted and it's the perfect trap... For sure. Hah. Maybe she is Logan's daughter, I don't know. The only thing I know is that when I got back from closing my bakery in San Francisco, it was just a tad more tense around here. 

"I don't know," he admits. "But Hailey's welcome here... It's either this or she ends up in foster care or on the street." 

"It's not like I don't like having her around," I muttered, the knife in my hand slicing the tomatos evenly. "It's just that nobody freaked when you found out that you had offspring." 

Logan chuckled. "I work for Eyes Only, nothing suprises me any more. Almost done?" I went from looking at him to looking at the tomato and realized I'd just about cut my hand off. 

"Err, yeah," I put down the knife and took the tomato-covered cutting board over to the stove., emptying it in the frying pan we were making spaghetti sauce in. "How are the meatballs goin'?" 

"Um," he looked down at his bowl of goop. "I need some ground beef. I've got everything but ground beef." 

"Where's the beef?" I quoted in a stupid voice, setting the cutting board down on the counter. That at least got a smile out of ol' Logan. He went over to get the beef from the freezer and I turned, bumping into him. "Sorry." 

"S'okay." I wasn't really aware of our proximity until then. We looked at each other for a moment, lips centimetres apart. We kissed tentatively and the contact sent tingles down my spine. I moved my hand up his arm, clutching his--blue--shirt as our We broke apart after a minute or so and looked at each for a second, not sure what to do. 

And then I saw Max. I gotta say, she was way too good at the whole poker face thing, standing there with her arms crossed and a manilla envelope in one hand, no expression in her face. Logan and I pulled apart and tried to explain what happened, but her icy voice cut in. 

"I really _don't care_. But it makes this manilla envelope mean a whole lot less. Ciao." The manilla dropped from her hand and hit the kitchen floor with a soft thwap and she turned to leave. Guess who went after her? 

"Max," Logan insisted. "I ca--" 

"I don't care," she repeated, not turning until she opened the door. "Just make sure Eyes Only gets that envelope, Logan." I winced as the door slammed and then bent down to retrieve the package. Max is going to hate me even more now, which is just great. I usually need her to come and save my ass and I know she's going to be a lot more reluctant to do that now, if she even talks to Logan in the next few days or weeks. It was inevitable that she was going to hate me if Logan and I kissed, but seeing it was probably even worse than hearing about it. And Logan will chase after her and apologize and get back onto curing that virus of hers, leaving me in the ever-awkward dust. 

The envelope wasn't even even sealed... Must not be important. I pulled out the two papers out and looked at them. 

Morgue photos. A creepy-looking man and and an old man, both with multiple gunshot wounds to the face. An RCF badge taped to the back of each picture, bloodied and in plastic baggies. The first was Larry Bealman--odd name, that--and the second was Laurence Sandeman. Sandeman, Sandeman, Sandeman... From what I'd heard he was Manticore's gran-daddy or something. The one who could cure Max's virus. And then there was that creepy lab guy that she and Logan talked about endlessly until a while ago. The first guy looked pretty 'creepy'. 

I knew it would completely break Logan's heart to know he could never, ever touch Max again. From what I'd figured out, these two guys were their last chance. May as well let the guy have some hope, right? Blindly, I opened the cutlery drawer and pulled out Logan's barbecque lighter, walked over to the kitchen window, and carefully lit the pictures, letting them fall from twenty-six stories up. I quickly replaced it before he came back to the kitchen, looking unhappy. 

"Asha, about just now--" 

"Don't worry about it," I told him, excusing a kiss that I'd wanted to mean something since I'd met him. "You and Max are still together and all, I shouldn't have kissed you. You guys'll beat that virus." 

"I think she already found a cure." 

To be honest, I wasn't jumping up and down with excitement at that moment. 

----- 

Well, that was five-star entertainment. It's been a pretty horrible day; got my ass kicked by a sixteen-year-old, found out she was something I never suspected her to be, then checked the mail to find morgue photos of the only two people that gave me and Logan a chance at touching. I still don't buy that 'expiry date' crap. And I don't want to, not now. I go to Logan's place to break the news to him and who's in his arms? Fuck... 

Bad enough she called Joshua my furry little friend, but she had to kiss Logan as well. I swear, I could tear her limb from limb. Or get Hailey riled up and have _her_ do it. That's all she's good for anyway, right? Bred to be a killing machine. Just. Like. Me. 

And at that moment, I understood White's point of view. I'm scum. That's all I'm good for, killing people. Well, maybe beating them savagely with my bare fists first and then smack-talking with them, _then_ killing them. The thousands of ways to kill someone replay through my mind and I almost trip over a body. What is a dead guy doing in the alleyway beside a conveinence store? 

Upon closer inspection, this person wasn't a guy. Black catsuit and hair, asian... Brin. My heart stopped for a second when I realized she was killed clumsily. Shoe marks all over the neck of her clothing, almost invisible under the thin blanket of snow. Her entire face and neck were bruised; whoever did this was incredibly strong, but extremely unskilled. I bent down, a single tear running down my cheek--I choked back the rest. Brin had scrape marks on her back. She'd probably punched her attacker--tried to, anyway--and got her arm grabbed, body twisted mid-air until she hit the ground... And her arm was probably still in this guy's hands when he stomped on her neck. 

Clumsy. Untrained. Incredibly strong. Signature move? The flip. Able to take down an X5 with ease. 

Hailey... 

----- 

"Little Debbie?" The dog-man offered. I accepted. Probably not the best idea, seeing as he looked strange and was offering food to kids like me. Mmm, chocolate. 

"What are you, anyway?" I asked, strolling down the street with the wierdo. He had an endearing kindess about him, a soft stutter when he spoke. And Star Trek-style spots and shit on his face. 

"First... Special," he grunted. But his grunts were gentle, more of the way he usually talked, I guessed, same with the slightly annoying way he lifted his chin up a bit when he spoke. I took another bite of my small cake. 

"First from what?" 

"Father... Sandeman made me. First. Pretty whack." Huh, 'pretty whack' sounds like something Max would say. So hip it hurts and all. 

"Um, cool," I said with a nod. When walking with dogmen, smile and nod, smile and nod. His impressive claws gleamed in the moonlight and I thought he must've been pretty damned strong. I avoided the urge to stare and faced forward instead, looking around for anyone with the motive to jump me. Nobody. Glancing quickly at the man, I looked ahead again. Smile and nod, smile and nod. I should've just walked away when I noticed he was walking beside me, but he seemed drawn to me. So I said hello. 

"You smell like Max," he said, whiffing the air around me. "Her jacket." He nudged me softly in the arm to indicate what he was talking about and I dodged. 

"You know Max?" 

"She's little fella. You know Max?" I noticed he was mimicking me, that he probably got 'pretty whack' from Max. 

"Uh, yeah. I know Logan too." 

"Max and Logan gettin' busy. That's the plan." 

"Huh? Max said something about a virus and Logan said that Max was just a friend--" 

"Uh-uh. Virus bitch goin' down, Max and Logan gettin' busy, that's the plan." 

"Okay." We were silent for a few moments, just strolling through Sector 4 until we reached the 4/2 checkpoint. I spoke after a few moments. "Do you have a name?" 

"Joshua. Father named me. Father name you?" Joshua stared at me intently. 

"Father Sandeman? No, I'm not from Manticore. I think..." My tone slowed a bit, then went back to smile-and-nod mode. "My mom named me Hailey, though," 

"Hailey. Nice." 

"Thanks. Nice teeth, by the way." I glanced at my watch. Eleven p.m. Great. "I gotta go home, Joshua." 

We stopped and turned towards the run-down house we were outside of. "My place." 


	6. Sadie

**"More Than Human"**  
Chapter 6: Sadie  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine. No spoilers included because my story took such a left turn from the show's real theme.  
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** Chill guys, it's gonna be M/L soon enough... This chapter is in the third person, by the way. Asha isn't going to die (she gets a little storyline in a bit though) and none of this is based on anything except up to and including Medium is the Message and my imagination. :) 

Hailey walked home the next morning after an uncomfortable night on Joshua's couch. It was before daybreak when she got home, so she quietly went into her room, slipped on a pair of pyjama pants, mussed her hair a little bit so it looked like bedhead, and crawled under the covers of her too-big double-sized bed. No one had noticed she was even gone, she guessed; she'd told Logan at about nine that she was going to bed, and he went down soon after--odd, he was the stay-up-and-mess-around-with-the-computer type. So she made her move at about ten, and nobody had a clue. 

Except Joshua. Talkative Joshua. She got out of bed, realized she was still wearing the leather jacket from her closet and took it off, then went into the foyer. It felt wierd being here, this wasn't her home. Hailey pained momentarily for her parents, but shook it off. Crying wasn't going to bring them back. They were dead because they hadn't killed her, because someone like her sent someone else out on a suicide mission in bad weather to destroy them. 

Hailey's body guided itself around the kitchen, turning on the kettle and grabbing the hot chocolate mix. She needed caffeine, but she hated coffee. "I'm one of them," she said out loud, her voice more reassuring than her thoughts. "I'm a normal." 

But, she wasn't a normal. Until about half an hour ago, she'd been wearing Max's jacket and talking to Joshua, and that just added to the fact that normality wasn't her birthright. It was safer around them, they didn't know her secret so it didn't affect the way they thought about her. Being around Max was less awkward than being around Logan and that friend of his... Asha? Yeah, that's what she was called. Which was odd, because Max didn't much like her. 

Hailey's lack of sleep hit her like an anvil and she grabbed the jar of instant coffee and poured some into her mug, tapping her fingers on the counter impatiently. Damn, she hated it here. Nice pad and all, but these people were still strangers to her. Mentally, she went through a list of good friends that had moved off the Florida panhandle. 

Eric... New York, second grade. Daphne moved to Canada just before the Pulse. And her best friend, Mercedes--Sadie for short--had moved all the way across the country to Seattle last year... Hailey sprung from her spot at the kettle to Logan's small bookcase, tearing it apart, looking for a recent phone book. Biology, Guinness... Ugh, that was getting her no where fast. Finally, a phone book unearthed itself. _Bummer, it only covers Sectors five through eight... Fuck,_. Sadie's parents hadn't been well off before the Pulse, and their financial status hit rock bottom shortly after. 

Sadie had always been a little odd. For some reason, her hockey career was so demanding that she had to practise every day, after school, for two hours. And when Hailey questioned her lack of equipment at the house, she'd just get a random, hurried response that her gorgeous equipment didn't belong in a dump like her small bungalo in Kissimee. Or that she was having it dry-cleaned. 

On one of her usual weekend stay-overs, Hailey found something almost... Disturbing. Her friend had always been extremely touchy when the subject of her basement came up, and she had to know why. So, while they were there alone many Saturdays ago, she ventured downstairs. Fighting equipment everywhere. Something resembling a broom stick, the kind of thing you saw the kid in the "be everything you can be" commercials using. Not to mention the fact that her basement was almost three stories high, with a few raised platforms here and there. A sword, guns. Various other items most people didn't keep in their basement. And a huge image on the far wall, a lion with a scorpion tail. 

She knew now what that was, but she hadn't known then. Sadie had found the basement door swung wide open, her friend, complete her jaw hitting the floor, gazing at the arena she'd found. Naturally, Hailey was booted out of her house for good, and she told her mother about the whole thing. She'd listened apphrehensively, as if she had something to tell her daughter and couldn't quite get it off her tongue. 

Sadie wasn't at school that Monday, or the day after. A quick phone call to her house confirmed that the line had been disconnected, and a visit showed a boarded-up, looted bungalow with no signs of life. For a few days after it was investigated by Kissimee police, but the investigation was soon shut down and the entire place was knocked down. And all Hailey knew was that her friend had moved to Seattle, and that it was all her fault... Judging from the letter she'd gotten, anyway. 

At last, she hit paydirt. The only McPhee family in all of Sectors five through eight. She tore out the page, ran to her room to dress quickly and brush her hair, and then ran back out, quickly writing a note saying that she'd gone to visit a friend that moved to Seattle, then left. She had a foot in the elevator when she realized that she'd left her caffeinated concoction on the counter, so she went back, dumped it, and made another elevator run. 

"Hailey, where are you going?" Her face burned when Max poked her head around the elevator door. So much for an easy escape to find a friend how might have real answers for her on what she was. A Manticore symbol on the wall and fighting equipment? She was either something like Max or something like Hailey. 

"I'm going to Sadie's," I explained, trying to push past her. "She moved to Seattle last year." I handed her the torn phone book sheet. "She's under McPhee." 

"Fine," she said after a moment. "I'll give you a ride." 

----- 

Hailey almost felt nauseous after the motorcycle ride. Max lived life on the edge, especially when it came to riding. Wheelies, almost hitting your knees on the pavement when she turned... It was betetr than any rollercoaster ride. She straightened her hair out a bit and looked at the mansion that loomed over her. What did Sadie's folks do, win the lottery? Politely, she rang the doorbell and waited. 

The door swung wide, revealing a pretty woman who was probably a little older than Logan. A hyper sixteen-year-old girl poked out from behind her, a frown replacing her frequent smile. 

"Hailey," Sadie breathed. Her mother sighed and walked further into the house, the kitchen presumably. "Come back to ruin my life again?" 

"N-no," she stuttered. "I wanted to ask you something... What are you?" The expression on Sadie's face went from pissed off to worried, and she almost slammed the door in her old friend's face, but Hailey forced it open. "I'm like you, I think," Hailey grunted through the strain. They both let go and Sadie invited Hailey in. 

"When you found my basement... My life was over. All it does is rain here." She sighed, leading Hailey to the kitchen, where an elaborate brunch was set up. She turned to her mother. "Remember Hailey? I think she has something to share with the group." 

Hailey did a quick scan of who was there. A blonde woman and a man in a casual suit with a bull-dog-like face who frowned at her when she entered. Sadie's father, and her step-mother--her mom had been tragically killed just after Sadie was born. "Um, hi, I'm Hailey." The person siting next to her stood up to introduce himself. 

"White, Ames White." He had a hard, creepy "I know where you live" type of voice. But he smiled and that took the edge off, so Hailey shook his hand. 

_ "You're one of them." _

"One of what? What am I?" 

"One of White's ilk. Which doesn't make any sense because Logan isn't." 

"It makes sense. When the third child of one of them is female, they find a male for her to mate with... I'm guessing she didn't know." 

"But I'm her firstborn... She was eighteen, after all. And who is White?" 

"Which makes me wonder if that accident your folks were in was an accident. White tried to kill his wife when she wouldn't let his son go... Maybe they do the same thing when you don't kill your first two bambinos." 

The memory of her conversation with Max and Logan sent her reeling, and she had to grab a nearby shelf to keep herself upright. White was the big bad. "I just remembered, I've got a dentist appointment." 

"That can wait," Sadie insisted. "I invited you in for brunch and you're staying." 


	7. Leaving

**"More Than Human"**  
Chapter 7: Leaving  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine. NO spoilers included because my story took such a left turn from the show's real theme.  
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** Lalala, not a lot of M/L to speak of but I'm not an M/L shipper. 

Max leaned on the elevator wall again, heart in her throat. Hailey had stopped her from doing this earlier, but now it had to be done. Logan had already seen the morgue photos of Sandeman and the tech, _and_ kissed Asha, so it was okay to tell him now. She just wasn't sure which thing to tell him; that they could touch or that there was no hope. Either way, their 'relationsip' has dissipated into 'uhh, yeah, I know that person' after the thing in the kitchen yesterday, so it didn't matter if she told him one thing or both. The only difference telling him would make would be that those facts would be out in the open. 

She was almost glad those two had kissed, that she hadn't been there when Logan saw the pictures. It had made things infinitely easier. Max had decided to break up with him and not tell him about the retrovirus being expired, in case the latter was false, but that was all taken care of. They both knew that the only two people that could cure that damn virus were dead--more than likely by the hand of those infernal hoverdrones that shot through windows. It was better this way, but Logan had a right to know that she might not be poison to him any more. 

The elevator squeaked open and she left it, staring forlornly as the doors closed, then turning to check if Logan's penthouse was unlocked. It was, and she quietly slipped inside and into the kitchen, where Logan probably was. He hadn't been much of a computer hack since Hailey arrived, and had taken up cooking things instead. 

He stood at one of the islands, chopping something up silently. Max snuck up behind him, quietly wrapped an arm around his slim waist, shivering at a touch she hadn't felt in months. 

"Hey, Asha," was all Logan said. 

"My hair's a little too brown and long for me to be Asha," Max muttered, taking her hand off him. He whirled. 

"What the hell? Are you trying to kill me?" He asked, checking his hands and face for lesions. She folded her arms across her chest, grinning. The virus was actually gone. There wasn't a single mark on him, and apparently he wasn't nauseous or anything. 

"Nah," she said, grinning. "The virus expired though. I thought you'd be a little bit more happy." 

"Expired?" 

"Yeah. Turns out it starts to feed on the host if it's not given a life expectancy. Not that the virus thing matters any more, I just didn't want to act all cautious around you and stuff." They were silent for a moment as Logan rolled up his sleeves and checked his arms. "Chill. You're fine." 

"Me and Asha only kissed once, Max," Logan pointed out, in case that was what she meant about the virus not having an impact any more... 'Oh, it doesn't matter, we're not like that anyway.' 

"I don't want to be with you if you want to be with her." 

----- 

Hailey politely wiped her mouth with a napkin and excused herself to the bathroom. The brunch was delicious, especially the salad that was technically dessert. But of c ourse, she had no intention of going to the washroom, and she bolted for the door. Her hand had barely come close to the handle when White's strong arms grabbed and twisted her, pinning her to the door with one arm, silencing her with the other. 

"What are you doing in Seattle? I've got enough shit to deal with without you and your unorthodox little family. I should kill you right here." His tone was the one someone would use while yelling, but much quieter. 

"I'm... In Seattle... Because that's where my legal guardians... Are... Seeing as my parents are dead," she bit back, finally hitting the nerve that made her able to fight, and throwing White into a nearby banister. 

A swift toss into a wooden stairway didn't faze him. "They're dead because you're not, you realize ." He flung himself at her and she barely ducked in time, running into the family room. Too far from the door now, Hailey would have to either kill White or knock him out. But how do you do that to someone who didn't feel pain? 

He ran into the family room and she blurred past him, back into the foyer, knocking him to the ground. "How do you like them apples?" Hailey panted, pulling her hair back out of her face with one hand. He didn't reply. "S'what I thought!" Jumping into the air, she kicked him hard in the side and he rolled onto his back. Even if White wasn't feeling that, it was definitely slowing him down. She tripped on the way down from her flight however, and when she looked up, he was gone. 

----- 

They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, tense, not saying anything. Logan kissing Asha was much worse than Max sleeping with someone when she was in heat; Max had no control over her inhibitions, Logan knew what he was doing. Both of them knew that. "So..." Logan began, trying to catch her eye. She shook her head. 

"I just don't know any more," she sighed, fingering her gloves and avoiding any attempt at eye contact. Finally, she looked up at him. "I should've told you when I found out." 

"Uh, yeah." They were quiet for a little while, until Max left. 

----- 

"What the hell happened?" Mercedes demanded. Hailey looked up at her when she was done examining her limbs for bruises and the like, then shook her head. 

"White... He attacked me. For no reason," she wheezed. Sadie was unimpressed and just rolled her eyes. 

"That's bull and you know it! White's one of the good guys." Hailey gave her another look and got up. Her friend just leaned on the family room doorway, smiling like an idiot. "You wrecked my brunch. But that's okay, I guess. Because you got your ass kicked and all." 

"_Your_ brunch?" 

"Yeah. When an Alpha gets to be seventeen, we have a dinner of some sort. I decided to have a brunch and get it out of the way, seeing as it's just a Bat Mitzvah without the Hebrew reading and presents and big-ass feast." Her smile faded. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. So, when do you... We... Have our mates chosen?" 

"Only the really orthodox folks have their... Mates... Chosen. I get to choose my own, because White said I could." 

Hailey scoffed. "And he's your boss or something?" 

"I have a strong urge to rearrange you face, y'know," Sadie looked away. "You know now, don't you." 

"Know what?" 

"Get out of my house." 


	8. Just Being

**"More Than Human"**  
Chapter 8: Just Being  
by: Mochaije

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine. No spoilers included because my story took such a left turn from the show's real theme.  
**Summary:** Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**A/N:** Saved for the end of this chapter... Just because it's the end and my A/N is special this time around or something. 

Hailey murdered her. My sister lay dead at my feet because Hailey had whacked her without emotion, without guilt. Carefully, I picked up Brin's frozen, lifeless body and carted her off, one of my arms under her knees and the other under her neck. I walked for a few blocks, restraining my tears, until I hit a cemetery. An X5 deserved a proper burial at any cost. 

Despite the frigid temperature, there was a funeral about to begin. They were setting up the aparatus to lower the coffin into the grave when I arrived. As cautiously as I had picked her up, I set Brin down near a tree where she wouldn't be seen and strode over to the open crypt, the creepy graveyard mist swirling around my legs. 

"The church is on fire!" I yelled frantically. The men, all middle-aged trailer folk, looked over and rolled their eyes. "It's a kitchen fire! Hurry before the entire place goes up in flames! _Go!_" The dropped their shovels and ran away. I carried Brin to the crypt, removed the aparatus, and slowly set her inside the grave--it was only a few feet deep, oddly enough. Must've been someone else buried under there. 

"Go to the high place, Brin," I whispered, blinking back tears. Another one of us was dead and gone. Who was alive now? Me, Zane, Zack, Alec, Jace, Jondy... If they're even still living. Ben, Brin, Tinga, Eva... I'd never see their smiling faces again. The grass crinkled behind me as Alec squatted down, putting a hand on my shoulder, not seeing Brin's body. 

"What a place to angst about you and Logan," he smirked, finally seeing my sister. "Um, she looks a little... Dead." 

"We aren't like that," I corrected him, choking on tears. "And she's one of my Manticore sisters. I found her in an alley." 

"Good news for me and Asha then, huh?" 

I wiped my eyes with the back of my gloved hand. "She didn't write down your number after the mermaid thing, sorry to break your sarcastic little heart." 

"Well, if the whole me and her thing doesn't work out, she's always got Logan." I bit my lip when he said that. 

"Yeah. Logan." 

He took his hand off my shoulder and we both stood, looking down at the grave, ignoring the panicked yelling from the church. Silently, we grabbed shovels and covered Brin with dirt until her grave was filled. 

"It's not fair. It's like, we've all got to die and we can't choose when or how or why." 

"I want to die when I'm really old. In my sleep," he softly observed. I could see that Brin's death was getting to him. 

"It's just... Scary. One second you're breathing, seeing, hearing, knowing, feeling, just _being_, and then you're not. Every time something like this happens I just shove it to the back of my mind... I hate thinking about things I know so little about. I don't know what'll happen after my body stops working and it scares the shit out of me." 

"And then there's the whole Logan thing," he put in, trying to lighten my mood without success. 

"We're _not_ like that. This is serious." 

"What? Between you and Logan?" He smirked, not getting the gist that I was upset. 

"Alec?" 

"Yeah, Max?" I stared at him for a second before looking away. 

"Knock it off." I leaned my tired head against his shoulder and stared, ever oblivious to the scene behind us. Tomorrow we would face a threatening new world, with new challenges and the same ol' bad guy. From my current point of view, it didn't look like I was ever going to get Manticore off my tail, that they were always going to be the big bad and yet, I was always one step ahead of them. And forever dragging my siblings behind me. Looks like Brin was the latest one to trip. 

Could I go on if everyone around me was taken away so suddenly? No. Asha, as much as I don't like her, is a part of the unspoken, unbonded group. Joshua and Alec remind me that having this handicap is a precious blessing, albeit a curse. My boo keeps me real. 

And Logan keeps me one step ahead. Forever and always. Even if we're not 'like that', he's always watching out to make sure I'm not the the next one that White gets to cross off of his little checklist. Hopefully that won't happen until White's been crossed off my own personal hit list. 

Alec put his arm around me and we kept looking aimlessly, just being for a moment. Not speaking, not thinking about speaking. We were more than human, but not by much. The knowledge that we were better and yet worse all at once kept us from making a single sound. Perfectly imperfect human weapons, independent, quirky, and able to love... We'd failed and succeeded Manticore so many times that neither of us bothered to count. And so, we stood still. Just breathing. Just Zack's heart beating in my chest, Alec's beating in his own. Just living. 

Just being... 

THE END 

----- 

I wrote this over a very long period of time because I couldn't figure out what to do with it; end it, continue, do a sequel. It ends here. So, let me know what you thought, should I write a sequel or something? 


End file.
